368 



THE GENESEE FARMER. 



bird of prey passes over, with a warning voice he 

 bids his family beware! The gallant chanticleer 

 has at command his amorous phrases and his terms 

 of defiance. But the sound by which he is best 

 known is crowing; by this he lias been distin- 

 guished in all ages as the countryman's clock or 

 alarum, as the watchman proclaims the divisions 

 of the night. His "cock-a-doodle-do-oe," trans- 

 lated, means, " Women do not ride her e-eP 



The peacock, with his gorgeous train, noAV de- 

 mands our attention ; but, like most of the gaudy 

 birds, his notes are harsh, grating, and shocking to 

 the ear; the yelling of cats, and the braying of an 

 ass, are not more disgustful. The voice of the goose 

 is trumpet-like and clanking; the hiss of the gan- 

 der is formidable and full of menace and " protect- 

 ive of his young." The flight of wild geese is 

 generally in a straight line, or in two lines approx- 

 imating to a point. In both cases the van is led by 

 an old gander, who every now and then pipes his 

 we'1-known honk! honk! as if to ask "how they 

 c >me on;" and the honk of "all's-well " is returned 

 by some of the party. Among ducks the sexual 

 distinction of voice is remarkable; for while the 

 quack of the duck is loud and sonorous, the voice 

 of the drake is inward and harsh, and feeble, and 

 scarce discernible. 



Turkeys have a language of their own — known 

 and understood among themselves as well as their 

 owners understand written language. It may not 

 be Hebrew, or Greek, or Dutch, but answers 

 their own purpose. It can not be as extensive as 

 that of the Chinese; but by it, young and old of a 

 turkey community will learn to communicate their 

 thoughts to each other in far less time than small 

 children in an infant school will learn the elements 

 of our vernacular dialect. By a particular word — 

 to them it is a word — or whistle, or sound uttered 

 by one of the older members of the flock, jartic- 

 u'arly if uttered by the gobbler, should there be 

 fifty of them, all will stop feeding and look up to 

 barn what is wanted. This will be invariably 

 done, if the old gentleman or one of the old ladies 

 should discover a hawk hovering high in air; the 

 mother becomes agitated with fear, and uses the 

 natural language of that passion ; her young ones 

 catch the fear by imitation, and in an instant con- 

 ceal themselves in the grass. At the same time 

 that she shows her fears by her gesture and de- 

 portment, she uses a certain exclamation — " Koe^ 

 ut," "Koe-ut" — and the young ones afterward 

 know that the presence of their enemy is an- 

 nounced, and hide themselves as before. 



This note of danger, as well as the other notes 



Ithe mother-turkey, when she calls her flock to 

 their food or to sleep under her wings, appears to 

 bean artificial language, both as expressed by the 

 mother and as understood by the progeny; for a 

 hen teaches this language with equal ease to the 

 ducklings she has hatched from supposititious eggs^ 

 and educates as her own offspring; and all our do- 

 mestic animals are readily taught to come to us for 

 food when we use one tone of voice, and to fly 

 from our anger when we use another. 



The cock-turkey struts and gobbles to his mis- 

 tress in a most uncouth manner; he has also a pert 

 and petnlent note when he attacks his adversary. 

 When a hen-turkey leads forth her young brood, 

 she keeps a watchful eye ; and if a bird of prey 



appears, though ever so high in the air, the carefi 

 mother announces the enemy with a little inwar 

 moan, and watches him with a steady and attentb 

 look ; but if he approach, her note becomes earr 

 est and alarming and her outcries are redouble* 

 How do turkeys know the character of the? 

 Goths and Vandals of the feathered races unt 

 they have experienced their ravages? They apps 

 rently do know it from instinct. Persons, wise 

 than ourselves, may answer the question. We ca 



not. C. N. BEMENT. 



Bennington Center, Ft., November, 1862. 



ABOUT RAISING CORN. 



"Got your corn all husked, neighbor?" 



"Yes; I finished up yesterday while it raine< 

 traced it this morning, and have got it into tl 

 chamber safe and sound." 



"How did it turn out this year?" 

 t " Well, not as good as last, but a fair averag 

 crop." 



" I don't see how you always manage to get goo 

 corn when the rest of us can't raise half a croj: 

 now mine was'nt worth much more that the ha 

 vesting; and there's Smith, he cut his up for fo( 

 der. My land is about the same as yours, and 

 keep as much stock and make as much manure s 

 you do, and I don't see why I can't raise as goo 

 corn. Must be you've found out some differei 

 way from us." 



"There is no secret in it, neighbor, and I kno 

 no reason why my crop should be better the 

 yours, unless it is that I take more pains in rai 

 mg it." 



"What kind of ground do you plant on?" 



"I usually use that two years from the swar 

 which was first sown with oats and cropped tl 

 previous year with potatoes, giving it a good m 

 During with barn-yard manure; then plow in tl 

 fall and again in the spring, when it will be in go( 

 tilth for the corn." 



"Do you always plant corn on old ground ?" 



" No. I sometimes plant on greensward broke 

 in the spring." 



"Don't you think 'tis better to plow sward a 

 corn in the fall ?" 



"I prefer the spring, when, if you have teai 

 enough and 'tis properly turned, it is about as eas 

 as old ground. Wait until corn-planting tim 

 turn over the sward nicely, let it lie just Ion 

 enough to become thoroughly warmed, then put 

 the seed, and by the time it gets fairly rooted tl 

 turf turned under will begin to heat, and you ct 

 almost see your corn grow." 



" What kind of manure do yon think is best f< 

 corn?" 



"Hog manure, always; and next, that from tl 

 privy and hen-house, mixed with muck or goc 

 loam ; but the less old leached barn-yard manui 

 you use the better for the crop. As neighbc 

 Jones says, 'I had about as lief have one shove 

 full of manure that a hog has rubbed against ; 

 two of that from the barn-yard.' " 



"I know hog manure is best for corn ; what I 

 you suppose makes it so?" 



"One cause of the inferiority of barn-yard m: 

 nnre is the leaching process which most of it m 

 dergoes before it is considered good ' old manure 

 but the principal cause is the difference in tl 



